


Glue It Back Together

by Trinadecker



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, i don't even know how to categorize this, season 1 happened but after that who knows, somewhat horror ish? au?, this is based on a dream i had last night lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-01-21 12:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21299612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinadecker/pseuds/Trinadecker
Summary: As far as she knows, Regina is a social worker who lives in the city alone. No kids, no girlfriend, just her job. The problem? That's all she knows. That's all she remembers.She wakes up at the doorstep of a beautiful, cozy bed and breakfast with no memory of how she got there. The people there are friendly, for the most part -- perhaps a bit too friendly -- and at least one of them seems eager to have her there. Then there's the blonde, who seems determined to ignore her presence, and the child, who tells her tales of her own life. Things that can't be real, and things that she doesn't remember. Stories about curses and memory loss, reviving lost loved ones, and of a woman so desperate to put her family back together again that she breaks them again and again in the process.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally unedited so sorry for any mistakes. Tagged this as canon divergence but like, from what point, not really sure. Aka I haven't seen the show in years and I'm yeeting canon out the window

This was not her bed. The ground beneath her was uneven. Hard edges dug into her spine, and it seemed to sap the warmth from her body. Groaning, Regina attempted to push herself up, but the palm of her hand was met with sharp gravel tearing at her skin. She inhaled at the pain, eyes flying open. 

Panic gripped at her chest as she realized she didn’t recognize anything around her. She was outside, the cold night air seeping through the fabric of her clothes. They looked more worn than she remembered. Maybe it was just the moonlight, but the colors seemed faded, and the edges were wrinkled. There was a large run in her stockings on her right leg. The lumps she had felt beneath her were concrete stairs, leading up to an enormous house. The house -- no, _ mansion,_ \-- itself was beautiful, bathed in the silver light of the stars. Arching windows caught the light, and there were turret style spires twisting up towards the clouds. A small wooden sign stood out in the yard. 

_ Granny’s Bed & Breakfast _. 

Frowning, Regina pressed a hand to her forehead. She had no memory of coming out this far. Last she could remember, she’d been in her apartment in the city, prepping for her latest social services case. She’d been putting together a file for a child who’d been reported missing by his father…

Her mind went blank after that. She tried to push herself up once again. 

“Oh, hold on! Wait, I’ll help you!” 

Turning, Regina squinted to see a small, pixie haired woman running up a large driveway that curved behind her. At the end of the gravel road was a small parking lot, and off to the side, a two car garage. Lights shone from inside the windows, and she thought she could make out a figure moving inside. 

“How are you feeling?” The woman asked her as she reached Regina, bending down to brace a hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you. It was only for a second; I thought you were asleep.” The woman was maybe a few years younger than her. This close Regina could make out her soft features -- a button nose, flushed cheeks, though perhaps that was from the running, and warm, dark eyes. Her lips were pink and turned in a soft smile, and there was not a smudge of makeup on her face. Regina felt overdressed by comparison, sitting on the ground in rumpled business casual and a painted face. 

“Disoriented,” Regina replied, her voice gravelly. “Where am I?” 

“You’re at Granny’s.” The woman hoisted Regina to her feet. “I’m Mary Margaret. I live here. Take it slow now. You were having car trouble on the main road over there. My husband found you. I think you hit your head, so be careful.”

“Car trouble?” She echoed, glancing back towards the dirt road that edged the sprawling lawn. The benz was nowhere to be seen. 

Mary Margaret nodded. “It looked a bit like you hit something. A deer, maybe? It’s just a small dent. My husband is taking a look now.” She gestured back towards the garage. As Regina turned to look, she saw that there was indeed somebody inside. She could just make out a blonde man waving to her. She lifted a hand and gave a small wave in return. “Can I ask where you were going in such a hurry?”

“I, uh…” Regina shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.” 

Frowning, Mary Margaret turned and began to lead her up the stairs. “You must have hit your head pretty hard. Let’s get you inside and into a warm bed, and I’ll call the doctor first thing in the morning.” 

Regina nodded, too exhausted to protest. 

The inside of the house was as opulent as the exterior. Plush red carpets lined hardwood floors, and paintings marched across the walls. A small counter in the foyer read “Check In/Check Out”, but there was nobody behind it. A row of ornate keys dangled from ropes attached to golden hooks at the bottom of an overhead cabinet. There were a few missing, Regina noted -- occupied rooms. 

As they passed what seemed to be the dining room, Regina caught a glimpse of a pretty woman about her age, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt, but even under that Regina could see the well-defined muscles of her arms. She was hunched over a cup of something, but she looked up as the two women passed, expression unreadable. She stared outright, watching Regina with darkened eyes and lips pressed into a hard line. She did not stand up. She did not speak. Mary Margaret paused just as they were passing the doorway, backing them up a step so they were within the woman’s sight once again. 

“Emma dear, we have a new guest! Aren’t you going to say hello?” 

The blonde continued to stare at her with those haunted eyes for several more moments before she glanced towards Mary Margaret and frowned. She fixed that stare on the other woman, though this time it had hardened, something of a challenge. Finally she sighed, glancing back to Regina. 

“Hello, Regina. Welcome to Granny’s.” There was about as much emotion in the statement as was in her gaze. With that she returned her eyes to her cup. 

At the edge of her vision Mary Margaret frowned, and the hand on Regina’s arm tensed. “Thank you.” Her tone was terse. She nudged Regina further down the hall. 

As they walked away, Emma muttered under her breath, just loud enough to be heard, “Enjoy your stay.” 

“You’ll have to forgive my daughter,” Mary Margaret began as she lead Regina into a small bedroom and flicked on the light. The floor was laid with the same stained and polished hardwood as the hall and entryways, and a wine-red plush carpet covered the area in front of the bed. A dark wooden wardrobe stood to one side, left of a window with a gray-plush lined seat. A small vanity with a mirror occupied the other wall, and a nightstand with a lamp stood beside the bed. There was a cracked door that Regina could just see led to a bathroom. Besides that the room was empty. 

“Your daughter?” Regina asked, unable to hide the disbelief from her voice. Surely she couldn’t mean the blonde woman from the dining room? She gave another once over to the petite woman who had found her outside. Her skin was flawless, free of wrinkles, cheeks full and boasting a youthful flush. By contrast the woman downstairs was weathered. Still beautiful, still young, but worn. 

“I’m older than I look,” was all she said. She gestured around to the room. “Well, get some rest. We’ll get the doctor out here in the morning and get all this sorted out. Oh,” She added, a bit sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind. We brought your suitcase up from your car.” 

Regina shook her head. “No, that’s fine, thank you.” Normally somebody going through her car would not be okay with her, but right now all she wanted was to crawl into that bed and fall asleep. Her privacy was the least of her concerns. 

“All right then. Just give a shout if you need anything, then.” Mary Margaret closed the door behind her, and Regina collapsed into the plush comforter of the bed and drifted into a black, dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Hello, Regina. Welcome to Granny’s. Enjoy your stay. _

Regina’s eyes shot open and she sat up, the blonde woman’s words from the night before echoing in her head. A wave of vertigo hit her and she eased back down against the overstuffed pillows. She squinted against the bright light filtering in through the gauzy curtains, wondering how late she’d been out. It wasn’t like her to sleep in, but then again, it also wasn’t like her to wake up on a stranger’s doorstep without any memory of how she got there. She groaned, pressing a hand into her forehead. There was a dull ache behind her eyes that was growing sharper by the moment. How hard had she hit her head? 

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. “Come in,” she called, pulling the blankets up over her chest. She’d fallen asleep in her rumpled clothes. 

The door opened to reveal Emma, carrying a heavy breakfast tray. She was wearing a white tank, and Regina couldn’t help but appreciate the way her arms flexed under the weight. Her curling hair was tossed up in a haphazard ponytail again, and she was bare faced, reminding Regina that she had fallen asleep in her own makeup and it must now be smudged around her eyes.

“Goodmorning,” She tried, voice hoarse. 

Emma avoided eye contact as she kicked the door closed behind her and made her way towards the nightstand. She set the tray down heavily, the silverware clattering against the wood. “Afternoon,” she grunted. “It’s one in the afternoon.” She thrust open the curtains, allowing the full force of the sun to brighten the bedroom. Regina winced against the light, earning a muttered “Sorry.” 

“I didn’t realize it was so late.” That didn’t earn a response. “Thank you for the food,” Regina continued. 

Emma shrugged, still peering out the window. “My mom asked me to bring it to you. Don’t expect breakfast in bed every day,” she warned. “Doctor Whale will be here in an hour. You might want to get dressed.” 

Regina started to thank the woman again but before she knew it she was out in the hall, slamming the door behind her. The gauzy curtains fluttered a bit in her wake. The blonde had managed the entire interaction without so much as a glance in Regina’s direction. _ Some bedside manner, _she thought, detangling her limbs from the sheets and reaching for the tray. A bowl of fruit, a sunny side up egg, a slice of toast, and a glass of water.

Her typical weekday breakfast. 

_ Hello, Regina. Welcome to Granny’s. _

Something about the breakfast order triggered it. It hit her, all of the sudden, why the blonde’s greeting had been haunting her. 

Emma knew her name. 

She hadn’t introduced herself yet, and she certainly hadn’t had breakfast here before, but the woman knew her name and she knew exactly what she liked. 

Sighing, Regina shook her head. There had to be a reason for Emma knowing her name, and really, there wasn’t anything unusual about fruit and a sunny side up egg for breakfast. Really, they were pretty standard options. She picked at the offerings, but her stomach had been rocky since the night before, and she ended up reaching for her suitcase instead. Maybe a shower and a change of clothes would help her to feel better. 

The clothes were packed exactly as she liked them. Her favorite outfits were within, organized and folded just as she liked, as if she had time to plan this trip and consider every outfit carefully. The problem was -- she had no recollection of why she had put the supplies together. It was a big suitcase, too. Her largest one. There were enough outfits for two or three weeks inside without having to do any laundry, and several pairs of pajamas. Clearly, she had been planning to be away for awhile. If only she could remember why. 

She pulled out something comfortable, a pair of nice jeans and a cozy shirt. There had been a chill to the air the night before, promising the turn of autumn to winter before long. That, and the bed and breakfast was a little cooler than she typically liked. 

Frowning, she realized that the clothes in her suitcase resembled those that she had on. Rumpled, with a little pilling, and a bit of fade, as if they had been laundered incorrectly a few times. 

Just how much time was she missing?  
Making a mental note to ask the date when she saw Mary Margaret next, Regina pulled her toiletries from the bag and made her way to her bathroom. It was small, no frills, with a single sink, tiny mirror, slim shelving for linens that had been lined with towels and washcloths, and a stand-up shower. She missed her own bathroom, with its deep tub. She could go for a long soak at the moment. 

The stairs creaked as she made her way down to the common areas. She hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at everything in the dim light of the night before, and she took the opportunity to get her bearings. The steps marched up in a spiral, and despite the towering appearance of the building’s exterior, only spanned two levels. They let out into a seating area, complete with a fireplace and a television. A small gaming set was plugged into the tv, and a boy of maybe fifteen was sprawled out on one of the couches. The cushions looked far too fancy for him to be sitting that way, but he seemed comfortable in that way that teenagers sometimes were, oblivious to their surroundings. 

“Hello,” She called, bracing herself against the railing of the stairs to peer down at him. 

He jolted into a sitting position, immediately putting both feet on the floor and twisting around to face her, guilt momentarily edging into his features. He was lanky. Tall for his age, Regina thought. Ordinarily she would have mistaken him for older, but his face had a boyish quality that betrayed his youth. Freckles smattered his pale skin, and he had a wild puff of wavy brown hair that was overdue for a trim.

“Hi,” He replied, a slight waver to his voice. He was staring at her with wide eyes. After a moment too long he opened his mouth as if he was about to say something more, but he was cut off. 

“Henry, go help Belle with the laundry.” 

Regina turned to find Emma in the adjacent room -- a kitchen, it looked like. The dining room must be to the right, she thought to herself. There was a doorway that looked like it led somewhere, and that must be it. Emma was standing at a counter, a sandwich in her hand. She was once again refusing to look at Regina, her eyes trained on the boy. 

He began to protest but Emma repeated herself, with an implied _ now _. His wide eyes glanced back at Regina once more before he obeyed, stalking off down the hallway and out of sight. Regina descended the rest of the way, socks making soft padding noises on the carpeted runners. 

“Oh, you’re awake, good!” Mary Margaret’s cheery voice sounded behind Emma and she appeared from the doorway Regina had noted a moment ago, a stack of dishes in her hands. “I hope breakfast was alright. Emma made it for you,” She noted, glancing pointedly at her daughter, who was ignoring everything but her sandwich and scrolling through something on her phone. 

“It was lovely, thank you.” She shuffled for a moment, thinking that she probably should have brought the tray down with her. 

Mary Margaret nodded, setting the dishes down in the sink. “Good, good! Emma always seems to know what everyone will like.” She ignored the disbelieving grunt that Emma let out, but she pressed her lips together when her daughter rolled her eyes and took her sandwich to another room. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, and then closed it again. Instead she filled the sink with soapy water and began to scrub at the plates. “I haven’t had the chance to ask your name,” She finally asked.

Regina shifted uncomfortably, Emma’s words from the night before echoing in her mind once more. “It’s Regina. Regina Mills.”

“That’s beautiful.” The other woman turned towards her. “It means queen, you know. Royalty.”

Regina gave a small smile. She did know, in fact. Her mother had taken every chance she could to remind her. “That it does.”

Mary Margaret continued to stare at her for a moment, as if she was expecting some other reaction, but when Regina didn’t say anything more she turned back to her task. “The doctor should be here any moment. He’ll have you patched up in no time.” 

“I didn’t know that there were any doctors that did house calls anymore.”

“Well, it’s a small town,” Mary Margaret explained. “About a half hour down the road. It’s like a place trapped in time.” She paused her scrubbing for a moment, eyes glazing over. “I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Everyone was so close.” 

“Must be nice,” Regina mused. “I grew up in the city. I never had anything like that.” She tried to picture her family, in their nice home in the suburbs, but it was fuzzy. She knew that her parents had good jobs, that they had been well off...but beyond that, it was hard to picture anything concrete. She bit the inside of her lip, hoping the other woman couldn’t sense the apprehension that was building in her chest. If she couldn’t even remember her own family, how well did that bode for her recovery? 

Mary Margaret snapped out of her trance, eyes meeting Regina’s. “It’s not too late to make something. We could have that again.” 

The statement hung in the air. Regina leaned back instinctively, flinching away from the intensity of her gaze. And then it was gone, and she went back to scrubbing the dishes, a smile on her lips. “Both of us, I mean. It’s never too late to build yourself a life.”

“Right.” Silence hung between them after that, until Regina broke it. “I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you, by the way. For taking me in,” She explained. “And for the doctor, and for your husband checking over my car. Please, let me know how much I owe you.” 

The other woman looked taken aback. “No, you owe nothing! You needed help.” 

“Please, I insist —” 

“It was an act of kindness, and that needs no reward.” She snapped a towel off the oven handle and began to dry the dishes. “You owe nothing. And don’t try it with Granny either,``she warned. “I’ve already told her not to accept any payment.”

“Granny? Does she help you with the business?” 

The other woman laughed. “Oh no, this place is Granny’s. I don’t run anything. I just help keep it going, and so does Emma. But really, we just live here.” 

“So there really is a Granny at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” She mused. “Must be interesting, meeting all those people passing through. Do you get a lot of guests here? I saw some keys missing.” 

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Oh, here and there,” She answered vaguely. “Most of the missing keys you saw belong to permanent residents. Myself, my daughter, and her son Henry; Ruby and Belle.” 

“Henry was the teenager, I presume?” 

She nodded. “Yes, he’s really quite a remarkable young man —” She was cut off by a sharp knock at the front door. 

“Hello? Mary Margaret?” 

A voice called, and the woman shot out of the kitchen, dishes forgotten, with a hasty “That’ll be the doctor!” 

“Well, you have a slight concussion,” The doctor concluded, packing up his supplies. “ It explains the memory loss, and the headaches. Those should go away soon. You’ll be alright, but no screen time for awhile, and take it easy. If any of your symptoms get worse give me a call, but you should make a full recovery.” 

“I suppose I can spend a night in a motel instead of going straight home,” Regina conceded, pressing a hand to her temple. The sharp ache had dulled to a throb, but she was still uncomfortable.

“Oh, you can’t drive! Not until you’ve healed!” Whale insisted. 

“Your car’s in no shape to drive anyway,” Mary Margaret added. “I don’t really understand any of that mechanical talk, but my husband said that it’ll take awhile to fix.” 

Regina pressed a hand to her head, accepting once of the pills the doctor had handed her and downing it with a glass of water. “What exactly is the problem?” 

“He didn’t say. But he’s very good with this kind of thing, I’m sure that he’ll have it fixed in no time.” The other woman was avoiding her eyes. “Besides, don’t you want to stay for awhile?” 

Regina eyed her. The pixie haired woman’s gaze was still fixed on the counter. There was something desperate in her tone, and Regina wondered if she was desperate for some company what with the way her daughter seemed to avoid her every word. Finally, she sighed, conceding, “I suppose I could stay for a few days.” 

The other woman seemed to brighten at her words, and Regina felt a small satisfaction at being able to give her some happiness. 

Besides, she could hardly hit the road and head home, she realized, the warmth in her chest washing away to be replaced by an icy grip. 

She couldn’t remember where home was.


	3. Chapter 3

“Regina’s going to stay for a few days.” Mary Margaret called to someone behind Regina. She was beaming, lips cracked in a wide smile as she prepped for lunch. 

“Doctor’s orders,” Regina clarified as she turned around on her bar stool. Her stomach dropped a bit as she saw it was Emma standing in the doorway, her face blank yet tense, as always. There was no reaction to the news but a slight flicker of her gaze towards Regina before her eyes landed back on her mother. “He says I have a concussion,” Regina clarified. 

Emma’s eyes remained locked on Mary Margaret. “I bet he does.” Her eyes narrowed a bit, and she left her post in the doorframe to brush straight past Regina and toss her napkin from earlier in the trash can. She plucked a tomato off her mother's cutting board, fingers brushing the knife as if she was challenging Mary Margaret to cut her. She finally met Regina’s gaze as she popped the slice in her mouth, and something wavered in that steely guard of hers. It was only for a second, but the corners of her mouth twitched down and she swallowed. “Nice car, by the way,” She added, in the friendliest show of conversation yet. “Shame it’s down for the count. You must be, like, mayor of this town or something to afford that.” 

Mary Margaret’s knife fell more aggressively on the board. 

“No, no...just a social worker. That’s all.” Regina gave the blonde a tight smile. Anxiety fluttered in her chest, though she couldn’t figure out why -- Emma was hardly the most intimidating person she’d come across. Surely, she could handle the cold. 

“A social worker,” Emma repeated, but she had turned towards Mary Margaret, whose eyes were trained on her slicing. “You work with kids.” 

“Yes.” 

“How nice,” Emma deadpanned, snagging another piece of tomato off the cutting board and marching out of the room. Her footsteps on the plush carpet of the hallway echoed through the hall, and then they were gone, leaving only the heavy fall of Mary Margaret’s knife to break the silence. 

“So,” Ruby asked, leaning over the counter so that her face was barely a foot from Regina’s own. “What do you do for work, Regina?” 

Mary Margaret had slipped away after the argument (could it be called that, with so much left unspoken?) with her daughter, leaving Regina alone at the counter. She’d just decided to do some exploring in the hostess’ absence when Ruby had replaced her, taking over the food prep and shoving a mug of cocoa in her hands. Henry had joined them shortly after, creeping through the back doorway to the kitchen and shooting Regina a smile as he made his own cup of cocoa. He didn’t say anything, but Regina was aware that he was drawing in every word of the conversation. 

“Well, I’m a social worker. I work with kids, mostly ones that have been through highly traumatic situations. Abuse, kidnapping, the like.” 

Ruby raised a brow. “Wow. That sounds intense. Must require a lot of training. Did you go to school for that?” 

“Yes, I…” Regina trailed off, desperately trying to find the missing pieces of her memory. She _ had _to have studied at a university. That was a requirement. Nobody got hired for social work otherwise. “I did.” She settled on the statement, trying to ignore the glint of sympathy in the other woman’s eyes. That was the last thing she wanted. 

“Must be intense,” Ruby commented. “Tell me, what was your worst case?” 

“I…” 

“That’s enough.” 

Regina was saved from having to explain her lack of memories by the harsh words and she turned to see Emma, coffee mug in hand, leaning against the door. Her weight was on the frame but she was anything but relaxed. Her teeth were gritted and she was glaring not at Ruby or Regina — but past them, at her son. He’d been hovering behind Ruby in the kitchen, sipping at his own mug of cocoa without a word. Now his eyes were locked with Emma’s, defiance written over his young features.

“Henry, come with me, _ now _.” 

He shot daggers at his mother but dumped the remainder of his drink down the sink and tossed the mug onto the counter before obeying. He cast one last glance back at Regina, earning a “_ now _,” from Emma, and trudged out of the room.

“She really doesn’t like me,” Regina muttered, trailing her finger around the rim of her mug. “I’m not sure what I did.” When she glanced back up, Ruby’s eyes were locked on her, with far more sympathy behind them than Regina would have thought possible for somebody she’d just met. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” Ruby said, eyes flickering to the doorway they had through. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t like social workers,” Regina mused. “She didn’t seem too happy when I told Mary Margaret about my work earlier.” 

The brunette paused what she was doing, wringing her hands together as she spoke. “Emma was a foster kid.” She bit her lip before continuing, selecting her words carefully. “Social workers just aren’t her favorite people, I guess. You know? The system just...didn’t work for her."

Regina swallowed. “Oh, I see.” It made sense, why she had been so cold towards her, if Regina represented everything that had failed her. Except, she had been cold long before she knew of her occupation. “That’s everything I signed up to change. I became a social worker to try and help mend the issues within the system.” She frowned, raising her mug to her lips and drawing a long gulp of the cocoa, wondering if maybe that was the source of animosity between Emma and her mother. “Although, I have to say, she didn’t seem too happy with me even before she knew what I did for a living. Are you sure that’s what it is?” 

“Look,” Ruby sighed, setting down the plates she'd retrieved with a dull thud. “You remind her of somebody, that’s all. It’s hard for her to see you, especially with Henry.” Her gaze met Regina’s again and she offered her a soft smile. “Give her some time. She’ll come around.” 

Now _ that _ made more sense.

“Who’s that?” Regina asked tentatively. She didn’t want to overstep her boundaries...but at the same time, something inside her urged her on. Okay, she _ did _ want to overstep, if it meant unraveling some of the blonde’s thoughts. 

“Her girlfriend.” Ruby ducked her head, refusing to meet Regina’s eyes as she hastily threw the food she’d prepared onto the plates -- seven of them, Regina counted -- that she’d scattered around the counter. “Ex, actually. Henry’s other mother.” 

“Oh.” There was nothing else she could think to say, and the silence hung heavy in the air. “I’m sorry. That sounds...complicated.” 

Ruby shrugged, unrolling a bag of chips and slinging a few onto each serving. “She’s dealing. They didn’t break up, she went…” The other woman faltered, still keeping her eyes down. “She’s gone. It’s hard for Emma, that’s all.” Ruby slid a plate in front of Regina. “It’s just going to take her some time. Just...it’s not you, okay?” She finally met Regina’s eyes and Regina inhaled when she saw that the other woman’s were shining with tears, and that her smile was wavering. Before she could speak, Ruby whipped around and began loading her arms up with plates and carting them out the door, leaving Regina alone once again.


	4. Chapter 4

Ruby had set the table in the dining room, and as people began to filter in, Regina decided it was best to take her lunch in her room. She didn’t have to excuse herself -- Ruby hadn’t said anything after their conversation in the kitchen -- and so she grabbed her plate and headed up the hallway stairs. She was about to round a corner when the sound of voices -- Emma’s in particular -- drifted towards her. 

“I thought we talked about this! We agreed that you were going to stay away from her!” Regina could tell that Emma was trying to keep quiet, but anger made her voice carry through the wide, echoing halls of the house. 

“I didn’t agree to anything!” Henry shot back, making less of an effort. He was met by a shush from his mother but he ignored her, continuing, “This isn’t fair!” 

“What’s not fair is what you’re doing to yourself!” This time the words were hushed, barely audible to Regina. “She’s _ gone _ , Henry. You need to move on. _ Listen _to me. Just keep your distance.” 

There was a pause, and then Henry hissed back, “She is _ not _ gone. She _ always _ finds a way. Why do you never believe me?” After that there was only silence, followed by the slamming of a door and Emma’s hefty sigh. 

There was a shuffling of feet and Regina ducked back a few steps as Emma neared. 

“Oh...hey.” Emma stuttered, uncharacteristically flustered. “I, uh…” She pressed a hand to her forehead, and when she dropped it she finally met Regina’s eyes. “How much of that did you hear?” 

Regina shrugged. Part of her, a surprisingly _ big _part that ached something fierce for a reason she could not claw out of the fog that shrouded her mind, wanted to tell Emma she’d heard it all. Wanted to question her, to demand the truth, to --

She swallowed, pulling herself out of the wave of emotion. She’d only just met these people; Why should she care so much what they thought of her?

Instead, she only shrugged. “Not much. Sounded like a teenager,” She offered Emma what she hoped was a friendly smile. 

Emma didn’t return it, instead opting to eye her with suspicion. Regina could see past the mask, though, and behind it there was only pain. “Right. Well,” She began, shoving her hands into her back pockets, “If you did hear anything, you should take my advice too. Keep your distance,” She added, and then brushed past Regina, elbow skimming Regina’s arm as she did. 

Regina drew in a deep breath, knuckles whitening as she tightened her grip on her plate. She knew she shouldn’t, but… “Ruby told me about your ex.” The words were out before she could stop them. Emma’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt, and a pang of regret flashed through her chest. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she continued, unable to force herself to turn around, the knowledge that she’d said the wrong thing, that was broaching a topic far beyond her bounds weighing heavy like a pit in her stomach. Her heart thumped in her chest as she waited for a response. 

But her words were met with only silence, and then the heavy echo of Emma’s footsteps as she descended the stairs, taking out her anger on the aged wood. 

“I’m sorry about earlier. I overstepped.” 

Emma’s chin jerked up at Regina’s words and she studied her with narrowed eyes. Just like before, there was a moment of vulnerability before the mask slammed back into place. She’d been hunched over a book at the kitchen table, though Regina had noticed that she wasn’t actually turning the pages. Her fingers worried at the bottom right corner, where the paper and cover were starting to unravel. Emma swallowed, closing the book and placing it neatly in front of her. “It’s fine.” 

“Was it recent?” Regina asked after a few moments of silence, deciding to push her bounds once again. “Your ex, I mean.” Something had softened in the other woman since their last interaction, she could tell, if only slightly. 

Emma shook her head, leaning back in her chair. “You’re overstepping again,” was all she gave by way of answer, and her eyes remained steely, but there was a smirk playing at the edge of her lips, and she didn’t pick up her book again. “You’re a brave one, Regina Mills.” 

Regina licked her lips and decided to take this as an opening. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” She tried again, leaning back against the countertop and sizing Emma up. At least the blonde made eye contact now, however fleeting. 

“And what’s that?” 

“Last night, after your mother found me outside. When you were in the dining room. You said hello, Regina.” 

“And?”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “You knew my name. I hadn’t introduced myself to anyone until earlier this afternoon.” 

Emma shrugged. “Oh, that. Yeah, my mom went through your wallet.” She laughed as Regina tensed. “Relax, I think she was trying to find an emergency contact or something.” She paused, letting her eyes trail over Regina. “Clearly she didn’t find one, since you’re still here.”

“Clearly not,” Regina agreed, her stomach twisting once again. She peered out the window, once again eyeing the garage where her car was supposedly being fixed. The sun had dipped below the horizon and darkness was quickly falling, but she could make out the building by the artificial lights spilling from the windows. Her benz was her baby, and she wasn’t too happy about it being in the hands of a stranger. One that she had never even laid eyes on, at that.

She jumped when she realized she was being watched, sloshing a tiny bit of her tea down her chest. There, in the window of the garage, was the silhouette of a man, backlit against the glass by harsh yellow lights. Regina could barely make out any features, but as she watched a lazy smile spread across his face, and he raised his hand in a slow, awkward wave that lasted just too long for comfort. Swallowing, Regina lifted her own in a weak response. A memory seized her and she shuddered, images of a man, his face barely held together, drooping at one side as he shuffled towards her, one limp hand trailing along the hood of a car -- her car -- 

“Who are you waving to?”

Regina jumped again, yanked out of the haunting vision by the other woman’s voice. Her chest felt tight and she shook her head, trying to clear the pictures from her mind. They’d felt so real, but...it was just the concussion, right? She turned to see Emma no longer in her seat, standing too close to her, with a protective hand hovering over Regina’s arm. Her gaze was locked on the garage, and panic had laced her voice. Without waiting for Regina to respond Emma turned back to the other woman, ripping a paper towel from the dispenser. She took the tea from Regina’s hands and set it on the counter, frowning, and wiped the liquid from her chest, dabbing gently at Regina’s skin. She was close enough that Regina could smell her light perfume, see the hazel flecks in her green eyes. Regina took in a sharp breath and at the motion Emma pulled back as if she’d been burned, and the moment was gone. 

“Your car is fine. Stay away from the garage.” Emma chucked the soiled paper towel into the trash can with far more force than such a simple action warranted. “Mary Margaret keeps her antiques in there. They’re fragile.” 

That night, Regina slipped out of her room, turning the knob on her door as she went so the heavy wood would close with only a soft thump. The halls were lit with ornate fixtures reminiscent of gas lamps, bathing the paintings and filigree in a sickly yellow glow. She was determined to do some exploring. Something about this place -- about these people, especially Mary Margaret -- was off. A shudder ran through her as she remembered the way the woman’s eyes had glazed over when they were talking, the way she seemed to fade back into her own mind at the mention of the past. And then there was that man in the garage. She shuddered as the images of a half-decayed face flashed through her mind once again. And why did he only wave? 

Voices pulled her out of her thoughts and she ducked against the wall, relaxing when she realized they were down an adjacent hall from her, too far away to notice her. Mary Margaret stood outside her room, wrapped in a plush baby blue robe, feet bare against the carpet. Emma stood in front of her mother, still fully clothed in the same pair of tight jeans and a sweater even though it was well past one in the morning. 

“She’s a _social worker_?!” Emma’s arms were folded tight to her chest. She was leaning in close to her mother, voice hushed but laced with anger. “You made her work with kids? Are you kidding me?”

“I thought it would make it easier for her to bond with Henry!” 

“Well you were right! She’s going to want to talk to him, and what do you think is going to happen then?” Emma shot back. “He’s going to tell her stories like he always does, and she’ll believe, and then we’ll be right back here again. You’re only making this harder on him.” Mary Margaret frowned, eyes to the ground. “You’re taking her away from him and then giving her back over and over again. It’s not fair to him. If you wanted to make it easier on him you should be keeping them apart.” 

“He can handle it,” Mary Margaret began, voice barely a whisper, but Emma cut her off. 

“He shouldn’t have to! For god’s sake, you know what she means to him! This is cruel! One time was bad enough, but four? Five? When will you stop?” 

“I’ll stop when she stays!” Mary Margaret snapped. Her hand shot up to grasp the locket around her neck, fingertips worrying at the polished silver surface and fingernails clicking over the seam.

Emma took a step back. When she spoke the heat of anger had drained from her voice, replaced with a hard iciness. “We both know that’s not really what you’re after.” Her eyes were locked with her mother’s, searching for something. Her muscles relaxed as if she was accepting defeat, but her eyes still burned. “You’re lucky I’ve had a lot of practice lying in my life. Henry hasn’t. If you know what’s good for him, you’ll keep them apart.” With that she turned, stalking off down the hall towards the bend where Regina was hiding. Regina ducked further into the shadows. She wasn’t able to see the other women anymore, but she could still hear them. She should probably turn back before Emma noticed her, but -- 

“You’d be happier if you let her in, you know.” Mary Margaret’s voice was small as she called after her daughter. “Things could be like they used to.”

When Emma spoke again, there was no more anger. Her words were soft. “No. They really can’t, mom. Not after what you did.” 

The silence hung in the air, the only sound the small click of the hinge as Mary Margaret popped her locket open and closed again, and then the soft thud of a door as she slipped back inside her room. Regina waited, but there was no more noise, and figuring Emma must have turned down a different hall, she slowly removed herself from the wall. 

“You should go back to your room.” 

She jumped at the noise, whipping around to see that Emma was still in the hall, leaning against the wall a few doors down from her mother’s room with her arms folded and eyes locked to her feet. As Regina watched she kicked off the wall and met her gaze. “And stop snooping. It won’t do you any good.” With that she turned, ducking into the room to the left of her and slamming the door behind her. The noise echoed through the halls, rattling far too harsh in their skeletal walls for comfort. 


	5. Chapter 5

She didn’t stop snooping.

Despite Emma’s warning, she’d continued in her exploration. She’d stood in the hallway after the other woman had disappeared into her bedroom. Emma had slammed the door hard enough that it had reverberated through the floor, and Regina stood there in her socks as the echo played back in the wood. Surely the noise had woken somebody up -- but she waited there in the hall for several minutes, and nobody emerged. Part of her had thought of returning to her bedroom -- a larger part had thought about calling for an uber, but the chances of somebody picking her up so far into the middle of nowhere were miniscule, and even then, the mysteries of this place were tugging at her. So she tried to tamp down the ache in her chest and shuffled through the hall, her footsteps whispering against the plush carpet. Every sound echoed in this place, and she winced at every thud, every creak of a loose floorboard, but nobody came. Emma’s door remained firmly shut. 

Eventually she came across a tiny staircase, hidden in a corner, spiralling up into darkness. Curiosity overwhelmed her and she ascended it. She’d previously thought that there were only two levels to the inn -- apparently she’d been wrong. The railing was old, not as well kept as the rest of the inn, and she winced as she felt tiny splinters enter the tender skin of her palm. Stained glass appeared at her side, and she found herself in a tiny nook, complete with pillows. 

Pillows, and a child. 

“Oh. Hi, Regina,” Henry began. “Welcome to my castle.”

He seemed more confident than he had before, his voice only wavering slightly, perhaps because his mother wasn’t there. 

“How much do you remember?” He asked, and Regina stepped back, taken aback by the question. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” The defensive reaction was impulsive, but Henry raised an eyebrow and she knew that the child was seeing right through it. 

“I know you have memory loss,” he stated. Regina waited, but he didn’t explain. Maybe he’d overheard her interaction with the doctor? Maybe Emma had told him?

“She takes more and more each time,” Henry muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Regina. “That’s okay, though. I know you’ll remember.” He flashed her a bright smile. “You always do.” 

She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she only hovered in the doorway. The boy had turned back to the laptop that was balanced on his legs, and he’d begun tapping away at the keys. After a moment, she felt compelled to sit down next to him, among the nest of pillows, though she wasn’t sure why. The boy seemed pleased at the gesture, though, so she settled in, folding her hands over her lap. 

“So, your castle, huh?” She took a moment to peer around the room and realized that this must be one of the tall spires she’d seen from the outside. The memory seemed distant now, though it had only been the night before. The stained glass cast a faded rainbow against the floor, barely lit by the moonlight. The floor was made of the same dark hardwood as the rest of the inn, but here the polish had worn off in areas and the stain was starting to lift. Cobwebs edged the corners of the high ceiling, strewn across exposed support beams. A tiny hanging bulb was the only source of light in the room. It was just big enough for two people to sit comfortably. Any more would have been claustrophobic. Despite the neglected maintenance, Henry seemed to have made it comfortable -- the pillows and blankets covered the worst of the splinters, and there was a small plastic crate filled with a stash of snacks pushed off to the corner. A small plush seat, similar to the one in Regina’s room, sat beneath one of the windows. “It’s cozy,” She conceded, though she ran a finger along the rough grain of the wall beside her. A thin layer of dust came off on her finger. “If a little bit of a health hazard.” 

Henry rolled his eyes, but there was a genuine, if sad, smile on his lips. “That’s what you said about the last one.”

Regina only stared at him, but he didn’t elaborate, just continued to tap away at his keyboard. She shook her head. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He only raised an eyebrow. 

Regina frowned, disturbed that this child seemed to see right through her. “Okay, I  _ am _ having trouble remembering things. How did you know?” 

“My grandma told me.”

Ah, so that explained that. This, and then Emma knowing her name: both traced back to Mary Margaret’s apparent tendency to overshare. Regina was starting to question whether or not she was reading too much into everything. Maybe hitting her head had made her paranoid as well. 

But then she remembered the hard set of Emma’s jaw each time they were in the same room; the way she’d panicked when Regina had looked out at the garage. And then there was the hushed conversation she’d just overheard. No, something was definitely off here.

“Mary Margaret?” She prompted. Maybe Henry could provide her some more insight. He nodded. “She looks quite a bit younger than the average grandmother.” 

“She’s older than she looks,” Henry said, echoing Mary Margaret’s own words the night before. “Plus, Ma was young when she had me.” 

“Oh.” 

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged, and silence hung between them for a moment. Henry tapped his feet against the floor. 

“She’s an...interesting woman.Very kind.” Too kind. She snuck a glance at the boy, but he remained focused on his computer. 

“Look, you probably shouldn’t go around asking about my grandma. She’s got good intentions. She’s just a little...over-enthusiastic when it comes to acting on them.” 

“Alright, then. What are you writing? Can I ask about that?” Emma’s words echoed in her head.  _ He’s going to tell her stories like he always does, and she’s going to believe him. _

This got him to pause his typing, and he lowered the screen before turning to meet her eyes. His expression had shifted to one that was so like his mother’s -- tired, worn. It was only for a moment, and then the casual, easygoing face was back -- maybe a little hopeful too. “I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” He tilted his head, regarding her with a thoughtful expression. “But I promise that when you are, I’ll tell you everything. My grandma included.” 

Not ready? Not ready for what? 

She wanted to press him on the issue, but didn’t want to risk it on the off chance that he’d respond as his mother had and clam up. It seemed unlikely, given his apparently opposite demeanor towards her. 

Now,  _ that _ was probably something she could ask about. 

“Can I ask you about other things?” 

He frowned, closing the laptop completely before setting it aside and rearranging the pillows behind him. They sent up a tiny cloud of dust as he settled back down, and Regina found herself concerned about what he might be breathing in if he spent as much time up here as the wear on the floorboards would indicate. 

“That depends what you’re asking about.” 

Regina couldn’t help the frown on her lips. “Your mother. She really doesn’t like me. Ruby says I remind her of her ex. What happened?” Normally she would have accepted that answer, but the conversation she’d overheard was just so strange. Mary Margaret had almost seemed to be suggesting that Emma let  _ Regina  _ in, which was ridiculous. They’d only just met. And what was all that talk about Mary Margaret  _ making _ her a social worker? About taking her away and bringing her back again? 

A tiny voice whispered at the back of her mind, telling her she’d woken up in a Stephen King novel, that somehow it was all related to her memory loss, that maybe she somehow  _ did  _ know them and only couldn’t remember -- 

She shoved it away. That was ridiculous. 

Maybe Mary Margaret had a habit of helping strangers? Maybe that was what Emma was talking about. Maybe Henry latched on too closely and was hurt when they left. At least, that was the only thing that made sense. 

It was a stretch, and she knew it. There were just too many things that didn’t add up. 

Henry’s voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she started, tasting copper and realizing she’d been worrying at her lip with her teeth.

“She’s gone,” was all he said, looking down at his fingers. He’d taken the edge of one of his blankets between them and was steadily unravelling one of the seams. “But I hope she’ll come back one day. She was my mom,” He added softly, and Regina mentally kicked herself. 

Of course. If Emma and this other woman had been  _ that _ close, then of course...and she’d just brought all that up with a teenager. 

“I’m sorry,” She breathed. Despite her guilt at asking in the first place, she couldn’t help but note the other part of what he’d said:  _ I hope she’ll come back _ . So she hadn’t passed away. 

He shrugged again, still pulling at that seam. “It’s okay. I’ve seen her a couple times since then, but she always has to leave again. I understand, though. It’s not her fault. Ma takes it pretty hard, though. So does grandma, just...differently.” He paused. “See, our family used to be really, really close. And then some stuff happened, and people kinda drifted. Grandma wants everyone to be close again, but Ma…” He shook his head. 

_ Things could be like they used to. _

“I’m sorry,” She repeated. There was nothing else to say, really. There was so much she wanted to ask, but it wasn’t the time. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, until Henry yawned, causing Regina to echo him. “I’m going to get some sleep,” She told him, reaching out to squeeze his ankle. She froze, unsure why she’d done it, and pulled her hand back. Henry offered her a small, understanding smile as if to say it was okay. 

“Yeah, me too. Ma doesn’t like it if I sleep past noon.” He gave her a toothy grin before standing. He gestured for her to go first and then followed her down the staircase. They parted ways once they reached the hallway, Henry ducking back in the direction of Emma’s room with a friendly  _ goodnight _ . 

Regina hovered for a moment before disappearing back to her own, unsure what to think of all the information she’d come across. It had left her with far more questions than answers.


End file.
